JapanxReader: His Compassion
by sciodeduct
Summary: Nearly assassinated by an intruder one night, Kiku Honda, the son of a dying Shogun, comes to decide to wonder as to why she had tried to kill him as her intent was of a different purpose. Despite the eloquence of his comrades, he visits her and has her live and work under him in hopes of finding out her true intent.
1. Chapter 1

"Getting used to Westerners is still troublesome to me so far," a young man said peeking below his cap's leather visor as he slammed the prison bars.

The intruder roared an incessant amount of curses as he had done so and left with the keys swinging around his index finger. A guard nodded to him as he passed and ordered that none would interact with the prisoner unless it was himself.

Given confirmation of his request they nodded, saluted, and made their ways into the bleakness of night. Upon exit the cool breath of night air brisked the tendrils of his locks and he securely threw his pony tail over his other shoulder and joined his hands in the safety of his large sleeves.

Returning to the castle grounds after a long walk amongst cobblestones and suspicious characters, he waved a hand to signal a samurai who watched from the Master's window. A visible shadow of the summoned samurai drifted in the darkness and a moment later the gates creaked loudly open. Beneath the ground trembled and the young man bowed and hurried through the gate and into the guarded entrance of the rudely awakened temple.

He wondered if the young Master was alright.

Kiku appeared to be relatively at ease when the young man removed his cap and entered his now heavily guarded room, seeing the youthful Master examine his features before a mirror and raised a careful hand gracing over the gauze where the intruder had made a reddening smile.

"Ah, Yao-san," Kiku exclaimed, turning his upper torso towards his Chinaman, a soft smile caressing his face. "Is the intruder alright?"

Yao stilled at the unexpected inquiry, looking over the samurais whose masked features showed nothing. Meeting the young Master's patient gaze, Yao cleared his throat and bowed respectfully to which Kiku repeated as well.

"The prisoner is fine... Why the question of another's well-being if they tried to kill you, Kiku-sama?"

The mirth in his usual dark eyes brightened. Disgruntled by his Master's nonchalance, he walked in tentatively in response to Kiku's beckoning to gesture to sit by the low table. A servant that knelt quietly in the corner stood, bowed, and went to bring tea while Kiku stood and sat himself across Yao, still amused at his friend's obvious unease. Once the tea was brought and poured-rather shakily, an apparent sign of alarm still present after the attack-the two men thanked and Yao hesitantly brought the warm brim to his lips.

All the while Kiku had not yet touched his tea and wore a meditative expression. To the Chinaman he supposed his Master was carefully arranging his thoughts. In the meanwhile he glanced out of the corner of his eyes, the opened window, admiring the luminous night sky with the hanging moon.

Below he could see the sakura blossoms flow in a delicate swirl with the brisk wind, scattering across the heavily guarded streets. The attack had not been too long ago, however, cumbersome protection already flowed out in immense abundance.

A light clink of glass recaptured Yao's attention, finally catching Kiku's calm eyes. He appeared to be ready to give his explanation.

"I am not the first to survive an assassination in this clan of mine, but this was not a rivaling one." Kiku explained softly, taking a leisurely sip.

Poor young Master looked tired.

"How do you know?" Yao asked skeptically, nearly slamming his cup. The sound of armor rustling was heard behind him but a raised hand from Kiku halted the tensed samurai. Sheepish, the Chinaman apologized and repeated the question, straining his voice to a relaxed tone.

His Master shrugged. "They would have sent a professional," he replied languidly, thanking his nervous servant when he refilled his tea. Yao shook his head no and the servant hurried back to his station.

"The intruder managed to get a swipe at you, Master," Yao argued, motioning his chin towards Kiku's disturbing gauze.

The young Master shook his head. "The intruder might have yet I still live. It was out of irrational emotion, not typical of a skilled hit man."

The Chinaman remained unconvinced but receded in his eloquence. "I suppose," he muttered, staring down at his emptied cup.

"So, is the intruder alright?" Kiku insisted after a minute of silence, maintaining his expression of composure.

He shuddered involuntarily at the repeated inquiry though Yao did not skip a beat in answering. Jerking his head up, the Chinaman nodded.

"Yes, Master,"

"Good, then I will see her tomorrow," Kiku announced, ignoring the sudden stares of disbelief targeted at him from everyone in the room. Yao gawked up at him as Kiku stood and began to turn.

A samurai moved towards the young Master, a hand outstretched, and offered his caution.

Kiku simply shook his head, not allowing anyone to persuade him into doing otherwise.

"You fret for naught, friends," their Master implored, dismissing their worries with a confidant wave. They all sunk their shoulders in defeat except for Yao who sprang onto his feet and felt near grabbing his Master's hands sternly in his. He managed to refrain though his eyes spoke the truth.

"It will be fine, Yao-san,"

Making a clanging sound which reverberated throughout the entire cell block's halls, many disturbed prisoners roared in annoyance and cursed the misbehaved prisoner at the farther end. Huddled in a corner stuffed with hay, you peered through the barred windows and watched the night sky. You banged the barred doors with a stick you found and deliberately ran it over to create the ear-splitting sound. Since you were incapable of whistling you founded a substitute, despite how obnoxious it was for the other prisoners but you could have cared less.

Not surprisingly an irritated guard trundled down the cell block's halls furiously and you were quick to toss the stick over to the next cell. An "ow" escaped from a prisoner's lips and a booming guard chided him to quit it or he would lose his head if he continued banging the bars. The prisoner professed his innocence of the tactic but that earned him a day without food.

As the guard stepped away from the cell he faced, he glanced a leering eye towards you and instinctively you withdrew further into the wall till you lightly bumped your head. You only heard him grunt lowly and headed off with an air of animosity left behind to circulate.

The prisoner you framed sniffled lowly.

A little guilty you decided you would sacrifice your morsel tomorrow. In the meantime you straightened your stiff back, sliding down the wall till you found yourself a comfortable position atop the hay and closed your eyes. It was cold, dank, and smelled horribly. You wrinkled your nose as you shifted uneasily, laying your on top of your folded arms.

The following morning you did apologize to the older prisoner, not verbally of course. When the guard haphazardly dropped your dirtied tray and carried on to the next you scooted over to it and slid it between an opening where the other cell remained. A happy grunt was received and a stuffy word of thanks barely reached you. Contented you huddled back on your corner, looking up at the window where the blinding sun shoned. You wondered when your execution would arrive. The thought of death was comforting since you wouldn't need to deal with the sense of failure and the punishment that would have come from it.

Very Japanese, you mused. To your knowledge a samurai would kill himself rather than suffer the shame to be captured by the enemy.

You felt no remorse to be honest but chagrined for not completing your task.

Once the skies began to be painted by a lovely shade of indigo, Yao's pleas of making Kiku reconsider filled the air.

There was no need to see a mongrel, he had said, it would appear weak and make Kiku seem too faint hearted.

"Nothing to worry about, Yao-san,"

Entering the prison, a place most unbecoming of the young Master's status, Yao spoke with the guard he met before and they were ushered with two large samurais in tow.

Suddenly the cell block went dead silent. Curious you sat up straight, inclining your head forward to hear the soft clank of armor friction against each other. This only meant one thing: your inevitable execution. What you hadn't expected was the target's presence. Once the heavy steps stopped, their imploring eyes watched carefully like a hawk while the young Master crouched and steadied himself by grabbing a bar. Meeting your eye level you stared menacingly from your corner, hoping to intimidate the young man you had tried to kill. Beside him, standing shakily from either impatience or fear or perhaps both was the Asian man who locked you in personally. Catching his eyes were difficult since he meant to avoid your gaze, you slowly crept forward to show yourself to the young Master.

His eyes were dark and speculative, much like his intent reflected in them. He seemed to be trying to understand something that probably wasn't there. When he finally came too you hadn't realized you had held your noticed the gauze wrapped around his neck and a flash of last night shone in your eyes, recalling how you nearly slitted his throat deep enough for him to die.

Remembering, in evidence of his lively state, brought anger to flow through your veins in a heated flame.

Maybe that was why samurais committed suicides... So as to not remember their failures. It was somewhat whimsical in a sense now that you thought about it.

"Hai, I have decided," Kiku said with a nod as he stood.

"Public or private execution sir?" You shot out sarcastically; ignoring the sudden clang of one of the samurai beat a bar so as to quiet you.

Kiku ordered him to relent and stared back down at you quietly, those expressionless eyes being difficult to perceive as though you stared through the very darkness itself, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

"No," he replied, "but rather you are to come with me, permanently."

What.

A sudden uproar from both the guard and Yao filled the cell block. The samurais said nothing but their boxy body language said different. You nearly fell back yet the surprise rooted you in place.

"Ai-yah! Kiku-sama, what are you thinking!?" The Chinaman cried in defiance, tossing a glare in your direction. "Of all the foolish things you've done, this is the most foolish! Don't bring trash into your home!"

At that you hissed threateningly at Yao from between the bars until the guard hushed you.

Yao only sneered at you contemptuously, raising a fist in the air to intimidate you until he brought his attention back to his young Master.

For first time in his entire life, Yao saw Kiku's face darken. Almost once he receded in his attempt at eloquence and stepped down. In a low bow he apologized greatly. There was no need of explanation at this point.

The samurais thought better of questioning their young Master although their obvious disdain towards Kiku's decision was evident as you could feel their masked gaze smolder into you where you sat.  
Before you knew it you were brought carefully to your feet (by the man you tried kill, ordered), and both your arms held by the reluctant samurais. Walking out into the sunlight you watched Kiku ahead of you and wondered.

Feeling the sun beat down against your bare shoulders, you couldn't deny the sensation of warmth and you craned your necked slightly towards the rays like a flower taking it in for sustenance. It was only a night and most of the day that you were stuck in the cell but it was utterly horrifying, seeing how you were the only female present. The Chinaman who locked you in intended for you to suffer the burning stares of hungry men. Regardless your disgust shifted away when you heard the man you tried to kill speak to his comrade who appeared to be further disgruntled than before. You assumed he was speaking of you.

Was he insane or had a different purpose in mind?

_You're insane if you think I won't try to kill you again._You thought bitterly, ignoring the samurais who tightened their grips when you attempted to relieve yourself. You gave up inevitably, no need to fight it.

Despite Yao's occasional glares the young Master finally looked over his shoulder and glanced at you, a smile sent your way.


	2. Chapter 2

Sakura blossoms passed by the opened windows softly, decorating the lovely blue skies and mixed well with the vibrancy of puffed marshmallow like clouds.

It was inviting for a stroll to enjoy the day but the sudden turn of harsh winds would occasionally rustle something fierce from the withering trees. Pacing over the small bridge had led to his young Master's temple, the shackle like chains of the samurai's hold on you gave your arm a dead weight feeling from the elbow down.

You swore you could no longer feel them and with every attempt in trying to ask the brutish samurais to loosen their grip, your pleas were largely ignored. Or maybe because whatever Japanese you had was cheap and ridiculously limited. You were surprised that Kiku could understand what you said back when you asked if you were to be executed publicly or not. It didn't matter at the moment; all you cared was trying to get your heavy fingers moving though to no avail. It was like trying to move a boulder, futile.

You watched how the river under the bridge reflected your entourage's appear in wavers. The state you were in compared to the nicely dressed men made you look worse than the scoundrels back at the prison! Hair sticking out in random directions; strands of hay intertwined with fuzzy strands engendered by the moisture of the dank cell. God, you had seen better days.

Upon entering the temple, several servants attended the return of their young Master, kowtowing to him in a rather fawning manner. To you it mustered up a light chuckle, earning you a burning glare from both samurais.

The entire thing was too unctuous for your taste or primitive in a sense. They flew to his feet without ever questioning why. A descendant of a higher being or a direct reincarnation crested upon the mass of an unthinking people? You weren't exactly sure of which, regardless if it were the case then why would a God come to dine with the uncivilized? They shouldn't waste time. Any attempt to educate and reason produced an unsound effect in the end.

Wicked looks were thrown upon you the second you stepped foot inside. You only cursed under your breath to save yourself the grief.

The entire entourage stopped in the vestibule, Yao muttering something to Kiku who wrinkled his nose. Commands in Japanese were given and at once you fell to your knees. There was no way you could lift your arms, the warmth of blood filling up above the elbow felt as though it tried to meander on but nothing seemed to come of it.

He noticed your panic, coming to you at once despite everyone's high gasps and Yao's warning. Kiku kept a comfortable distance though he seemed unsure of how to approach you.

The samurais kept their gloved hands curled over their hilt in case you tried anything.

_Stupid! How can I do anything if I can't feel my arms!? _

"I suppose shackles would have been better than being... uh... How you say it?" His English wasn't bad, but you wished he could fix the R's in his speech. "Man handled? Hai, yes, man handled."

You glared in a lustering flame, hoping to burn him in place.

The following day you remained perched by the corner closest to the window, admiring the nice sky and wondered how the weather was back home. There was the first sign of winter if the naked trees were something to go by. This wasn't something you could look too yet it reflected perfectly with the situation.

After being washed by the female servants thoroughly, you ignored their obvious amazement of Kiku-sama's great 'shame' or 'compassion' whichever anyone preferred, towards his taking you in. You understood this by the fact that those words were first taught to you by someone you wished you hadn't just thought about now.

He told you how interpersonal the Japanese were seen to be. One person's folly or greatest achievement could make or break their society.

At the time like with most things that sounded outrageous you rolled your eyes and kept your criticism to yourself. Afterwards a lily-livered servant came, and to no surprise a guard behind him in tow, entered tentatively with a tray in hand. Those doe-eyed eyes kept you from saying anything as he knelt to leave the tray in the middle of the room and hurried out without another word. You watched after him, flinching slightly at the forcedly shut sliding door, their shadows perceivable through the light material.

What was there as you removed the opaque lid burnt your face by a sudden rush of guzzling steam. Recovering by wiping it with the sleeve of the yukata you were given, plain white and unflattering holes in places you were sure to have your back towards a wall at all times. Perhaps it belonged to one of the submissive ladies who knelt… No. You shook your head immediately at the thought since you didn't feel well enough at the moment. Besides, things like that could drop your mental in a tenfold. You peered over the exposed meal. At least it smelled good and it looked edible. You had to be careful around here, especially with the food.

"...I think I'll pass for today,"

He would no pay attention to Yao while his arms were spread as his servants tended to his clothes. The only female servant out of the three insisted in working in front of the young Master, her hands being too near for comfort. Yao noticed this and huffed, shaking his head while intertwining his hands behind his back.

To his knowledge the women residing in the temple were more than fans of the young Master. The most attractive since the two previous shoguns who married a beautiful commoner but died after giving birth. There was no direct relation since his great grandfather had taken the title of shogun many years previous, but some of the women entertained with the idea. Such beauty could only be inherited by a god incarnate.

"What would your father think?" The Chinaman gave his indignant-rich rebuttal, keeping the faint scowl to a minimum. "If he heard about this in his current condition he'd surely die of shock! The failed assassination was enough to send him on the brink and keeping this secret will not last!"

A sigh escaped Kiku, his shoulders falling. "He won't have to worry; there is no need for it,"

"How can you say that!?"

"Yao... You worry too much,"

Yao huffed exasperatedly.

"Then what will you do with the wench?"

The mention of you made the female servant peer up at Kiku curiously; her black eyes alight with a peculiar luster that Kiku would not understand even if he had noticed. His eyes were fixed blankly at the wall and she wondered if he had kept his eyes open the entire time. Eventually he spoke after his Chinaman mentioned something of a concubine which made her immediately upset. With or without intent, Kiku didn't know but he yelped when her hands slipped a little too close.

"Ai-yah!" Yao went, reprimanding the female servant. "Pay attention to your work or you'll be punished!"

Kiku normally would have said something but he was too flustered to think.

A sly smile crept upon her face.

Those rumors of Kiku-sama's innocence in the ways of women were true.

It was said he never kept his distance any closer than an arm's length towards a female other than his mother, a Kyoto woman who was promised to his father some many years ago. Normally the shogun was to be wed to a Kyoto woman but there had been whispers of Kiku's distaste at the idea.

She wondered if there was something off about her young Master…

"I don't want her living at the Women's palace in Edo," he said frowning.

This piqued her interest more. The Shogun would normally visit the palace which was never attacked by assassins, mainly because the women who resided there were trained skillfully to beat off any intruders but a few shoguns have had children with these women in the past. Again, Kiku was very prune when it came to women so why the sudden attachment towards a young girl who wanted to kill him?

Maybe he was the kind of men who liked to be dominated, she thought.

"We cannot have her living here in your home, besides she can possibly fight it out with the other women and die."

"No, Yao, I'll do as I wish with the prisoner and my father will not know of this." As he said this his eyes flew over the servants imploringly, giving them a nonverbal warning beforehand. They simply lowered their heads in response.

In a five minute silence he stood down from the small platform and dropped his arms to his sides. His shoulders ached softly. Dismissing his servants they all exchanged respectful bows and left leaving Yao and Kiku alone. They faced each other unnervingly.

"You are dismissed for the rest of the day."

The look on the Chinaman's face was unforgettable.

Later that evening while the skies began to show early signs of lavender and peach Kiku strolled about the palace in silence. He rejected many requests of accompaniment, explaining he needed the solitude to mediate. The excuse was true but in reality he was waiting for the guards to leave their station perched beside your room. He was normally of calm disposition until this moment where he felt his patience thin.

Occasionally he would rub his wounded neck, flinching whenever he rubbed too hard. Kiku should be in bed but his state of excitement kept him running around. During the night before retrieving his would-be killer, he was incapable of getting a wink of sleep. His thoughts buzzed wildly about her, needing to know why she had tried to kill him.

She had said something to him despite her urgent words being no higher than the night air.

Kiku never got the whole thing but what struck out to him was _blood_. The way she muttered it did not hold the connotation of the blood that would leak but rather in a way of exchange.

Blood for blood? Maybe.

His mind racked furiously in trying to recall anyone being killed by his father's army of any particular importance. Nothing came up as expected.

Frustrated he climbed down the numerous stairways till he reached the first floor, ordering the guards to open the large front doors and wandered into the vast stone path where two other buildings sat on either side by some several yards. Several servants, samurais, and messengers meandered about under the rising moon's silver shine. Looking up he could feel the shine caress his cheeks, making them paler than they already were. He arrived on the first massive step, sitting himself while gazing up at the now diamond filled sky.

Nights like these were beautiful, it was a shame that they never came so often nowadays. Unfortunately his thoughtful gaze was ruined by sudden rustles of cloth originating from the inhabitants of the temple kowtowing to Kiku. Embarrassed he told to go on about their night and hoped them pleasant dreams.

You thought whether or not to jump out the window to make your escape but then you realized you were on the perhaps third or fourth tier of this large palace. Maybe you could just hang from the edge, let go, and somehow manage to grab onto the other edge to flee unscathed.

"I'm so stupid," you grumbled, staring over your shoulder to the untouched meal that went cold a long time ago.

Your stomach growled something fierce at the sight. Cheeks flushed pink you flew your hand over your stomach and hoped to goodness the guards hadn't heard. It would be embarrassing if they had or maybe they did going by how their distorted image shuffled a second later after the roar of a stomach growl.

Oh just kill me already, you thought.

When the skies turned pitch black leaving the stars like distant lighthouses, the guards had long left.

You realized this was your moment and you lifted yourself over the window pane, one leg already in the process of taking your whole body along with it until an unexpected sliding of the door disrupted the entire process. Shocked you stumbled forward and yelped in fear of falling to your death but a firm hand grabbed you by the hem of your yukata and pulled you back. You fell onto your back with a thud and your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to suppress a cry. A shadow fell over you then, making you all the more cautious and braced yourself for a blow though none came. You peeked below an eyelid only find those same speculative eyes whose too were wide in shock.

You sat up in a start, involuntarily scooting away in case he proved hostile but all he did was speak in a comforting tone.

"Hey… relax…"

You both noticed the door was wide open.

Neither of you moved when the thought of escape simultaneously ran through your minds. You turned over onto your knees and went to stand but you fell back down when the young man threw himself on you and held restrained you.

In the heat of the moment you tried to throw him over but he was more versatile than you had originally thought.

He managed to pin you down and wore you off quick than you thought imagineable. Sure that you were exhausted he went over to the door and slid it closed. In between heavy breaths he brushed himself off, looking over to you remorsefully.

"I apologize for being very inhospitable but I cannot allow you to leave just like that,"

"You son-of-a-!"

His wheezes became more stressed than yours to the point of labor. At once you remembered his condition the second the gauze darkened with his blood. Onto his knees now he tried to steady himself by breathing through his nose. His body racked softly in his attempt to compose his body but it seemed futile.

All the while you lain there on your belly, watching in a mixture of awe and fear. A sense of conflict crashed inside your head.

To help or not to help, that was the question.

You remembered there was a large bucket of water left you which you knew was safe because you had seen the young Master personally retrieve it but then you weren't so sure if he had tampered with it…

Only one way to find out.

"Hey, you left me water earlier, you didn't mess with it did you?"

Kiku looked up, his hand at his throat.

"It's safe…"

"If that's the case you won't mind if I give you some then," you scrambled onto your feet before you could see whether Kiku was objecting or not.

Gathering the water in an old cup you carefully approached him, grabbing his hand to lend the cup however you practically had to nurse him.

You were no doctor but an itch of hope hoped this was enough.

"A-ari-arigato…" he said at last, still shaking beside you.

When you felt he was able enough you quickly withdrew back to your corner, arms crossed. A sense of disgust barely hit you like a brick to the face.

You'd just saved him even when you intended to help.

The first excuse was the fact you wanted an audience.

Kiku unsteadily came onto his feet and shakily went to the corner opposite of yours, wiping his mouth clean from the water with his sleeves and sat himself.

A staring contest commenced.

"What are you doing here?" you started, angrily, "I could have killed you right now,"

"But you didn't,"

Silence.

"I'm here to ask you why you tried to kill me and there isn't a lot of time before my men can find me not in bed,"

"I have no reason to explain anything to you, you know what you did,"


	3. Chapter 3

"Kiku must become Shogun quickly after I die," the withering old Shogun persisted to Yao. The Chinaman stood a yard away, arms crossed, and his eyes to the floor. An expression of restrained discomfort near evident if he didn't look down so much.

The Shogun paid little attention, placing his gaze to some random spot in the ceiling. If it weren't for the occasional question of Yao's agreement, some would imagine he was talking to an unseen being.

"Yes, Shogun-sama, do not worry,"

The dying man gave a sigh of relief, his wrinkles tightening in an attempt to smile. However, he became serious the second Yao mentioned of his Master's current health.

"He is feeling better now, the wound is just a faint scar now,"

"My son," the Shogun mused, "he is your responsibility in terms of his conditions; if he is to be attacked again you must serve your duty and give your life to protect by any means necessary."

Yao nodded, bowing low till he grunted. Dismissed, the Chinaman bid him a good day and was escorted by a doting servant.

His mind was heavy about the frightening event two nights ago. Kiku struggled to stand and his unfortunate omen was left in his presence. He could remember the look of smoldering disdain in her eyes towards his young Master. Yao knew little English, but the wolf's eye was unmistakable.

The night had been cool, brisk, and the moon appeared bigger than usual. Yao took the initiative to seek for his young Master, but the servants redirected him to the courtyard where he was last reportedly seen. In his search he managed to find himself distracted by the beauty the night presented. Spring was in its midst of breathing vitality unto the lands, but the hint of summer was making its appearance. In the shadows of the smaller edifices occupying the courtyard before the massive temple, voices of attendants and workers filled the atmosphere. There was nothing much of appeal to eavesdrop in, but Yao strained anyways, hoping to detect gossip of the girl or Kiku's whereabouts. Much to his good fortune nothing in that ghastly range of the girl was mentioned, however, word of suspicious activity on his young Master was reported.

_Did you hear? He went to personally shop for peculiar items, what a rarity!_

On his own? He hardly leaves the temple.

Oh! But he did!

Where from?

Word is, is that he buys from the foreign scums.

How peculiar…

Do you think he fancies things outside of his own homeland?

A sharp intake of breath told of the horror at such a suggestion.

Yao shuddered at the thought yet he knew his young Master was only accompanying for the damned outsider. With a huff his cheeks flushed and he stormed passed the denizens of the royal grounds, summoning an armed man to join him as he hurried through the opening gates. By the end of the bridge where the royal ferryman stood by his teetering boat, they met gazes as the boatman chewed absently, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

Yao slipped some coins between his trembling fingers, "Where is young Master?"

The boatman had flickered his attention to the coins. He made a face. His disinterested was largely apparent until the Chinaman sighed contemptuously, fingering his pockets for a silver one.

It was known that the ferryman was a drunk, a drunk who, to all intents and purposes, knew his place and nourished his spirits upon darkness. Unfortunately, it would last until the sun would rise. However, thinking himself an equal only drank the finest for nobles. How he got away with this could be found in Kiku's eyes when they crinkled in amusement while they engaged in conversation. None of the royal families had taken a liking of the upcoming Shogun's joviality with the commoners, but they said nothing.

Far as anyone knew and wanted to live, questioning was out of the question. Yao wondered how Kiku's fiancée or rather the woman yet to be picked from Kyoto would think of Kiku's social quirk.

A toothy grin shot across the boatman's brown visage and held out his worn palm greedily, his fingers urging Yao to drop the coins. He cursed internally and queried for his Master's whereabouts. After a tinkling of a drop into his waist pocket, held by a worn rope, the drunk pointed back to the palace.

"He just returned a minute ago with odd goods in tow, you missed him, sir," a hearty laugh escaped him as he lifted a hefty bottle of spirits for evidence. "He tells me the drinks of the foreigners are good, or so he had heard. I intend to try them out!" the boatman looked over the bottle adoringly. "Would you like to join me later? Hey, I think you should Yao, it'd remove that sour mask you're wearing!"

Without another word Yao dashed, his robes flowing after. Another hearty laugh expedited his return into the palace. He roared for his young Master's presence, earning wondering stares as he went.

"Why do you insist on visiting me?" You screwed up an eye at Kiku's sudden entrance. He looked frazzled while he placed before you familiar goods. You wondered briefly of the look in his eyes, but your resentment held the better of you.

Like a cat you leaned forward towards the goods as Kiku tiptoed away. Pawing through, an excitement took place on your lips, an eagerness that reminded you of your need to get back home. In your moment of giddiness, he took the moment to declare his gladness of your appreciation in which you flinched back. With arms crossed, you quietly mumbled a 'thanks'.

"But this doesn't excuse what you have done, you wretch…" you said acidly, throwing him a glare.

His eyes widened. A look of hurt in them while his mouth gaped opened. Recomposing himself the young Master only gave you a smile. A smile that you couldn't refuse on returning, but for you your smiles appeared more like hidden smirks, a good thing now that you had thought about it.

"Well, seeing how not much more can be said, I bid you goodnight," Kiku bowed respectfully, his midnight black hair veiling his eyes and he returned back into perfect posture. Without further ado, he left you a cordial smile.

After a minute of his footfalls ceasing into the distance, you got to your feet and kicked over the supplies. You screamed into your hands as would a lion could roar. You hated being here. Imprisoned. What was your former target trying to prove!? You stormed towards the window, forcefully sliding it open and you crawled out. On this night the moon had been unusually large. As the warm light caressed your gaunt cheeks, you stopped to appreciate it despite your fury.

"Is this why you fell in love with this place?"

From the right a sudden wind whooshed, carrying a barrage of Sakura petals in a formation only achieved by seasonal birds. It was as though a spirit guided them, wringing them into art as you watched. The petals flew before the moon, glowing like gems hidden in a distant cave. The winds whispered an unknown melody, a melody that only the petals knew how to dance too.

_"Japan is beautiful, I feel at home here,"_ a voice echoed.

_"But you belong back at home!"  
_  
Again, the voice echoed a laugh. _"This is home,"_

Tears welled into your eyes, your chest tightened. You brought a hand over your heart once the tears cascaded in rivulets. Ignoring the possibility of anyone hearing you, you roared your pain for anyone to hear.

Upon entering his posh room, he found a shadow stretched across the room. Its source sat before the largely decorated window where Yao was found kneeled with his eyes boring over a shiny token. Noticing his young Master's return, he only turned his head enough for him to his waist.

"What is the meaning of this?" A click preceded the token's opening.

Two pictures.

He lifted it towards the light for a better view, but it was snatched before he could see the faces.

"Who gave you permission to launder through my room?"

The Chinaman flinched at Kiku's sudden hostility. Not one to be spoken down to, Yao stumbled onto his feet, raising a hand.

You're responsible for your Master's safety; take any means necessary, even your life.

A brief memory of the past flooded his memory. He closed his eyes, swung his hand downwards until a cry halted him midway. Yao shot open his eyes. They both stared, horror stricken.

Kiku shoved Yao to the side, his hand still clenching the token as he popped his head out the window. There you were, tears staining your eyes while you clung onto the edge. You hadn't meant too, but you fell over.


	4. Chapter 4

There were many things Yao did not and could not understand. The Shogun's terminal illness, Master Kiku's joviality to those below him, English, and the fraught-filled path his Master had taken in keeping his assassin. Whatever the reason to wall his mind from such wisdom was based entirely on his intuition of how to protect his young Master, the soon-to-be Shogun. Frozen in horror, he helplessly watched his young Master climb out the window, and crawl gingerly towards the hanging omen.

What in god's name was this wench thinking!?

She had finally silenced after Kiku promised he would retrieve her, which automatically brought suspicion to the guardian Chinaman. What if she planned this assumed suicide attempt? She may grab onto Kiku's hand and yank him over! After the fade of the Bystander effect, Yao snapped into action and trundled out of Master Kiku's room. He called for samurais, called for servants to provide capture from below, he risen the siren of alarm throughout the entire palace.

Everyone was awake and terrified, but Yao made sure that none of this would reach the Shogun on the highest tier of the palace. Luckily for them all, the unfortunate man was too embedded in sickness and exhaustion to be roused from his deep sleep.

You were pretty strong despite the hurricane of emotion racking your body and mind. You clung onto that ledge like a primate. Unlike a primate however, the shock of falling forward knocked all the reaction time you had spent years in honing, out the window. You tried like mad to heave yourself up. Even though adrenaline pumped through your veins like a forced open sluice of a dam, your body wouldn't respond, why? You had no clue.

"Hang on, I'm coming for you!" Kiku shouted, attempting not to look over the edge. He kept his gaze settled on you, though his eyes would occasionally glance over.

Steeling your eyes shut, you listened to the trees rustle, felt the faint tickle of the wind grace your hair and cheek, and from some distance, a light drop and the rattle of thickets being disturbed.

A small curse came from Kiku.

Perhaps this was the only time you appreciated his aid, or perhaps not. Before you could realize what was going on below, the foreign yet firm hand of your target grasped onto your wrist.

Pulling you over, you fell into him, your body acting entirely on its own as it embraced him desperately.

You were deathly afraid of heights, you recalled, correlating this excuse to the fact that you embraced and was held—held closely in fact—by the same man who brought disaster into your life a few years ago.

It was awkward being in his arms, not quite from the ironic situation, but rather from Kiku himself. His arms were strong, but the aura he exuded was of great uncertainty. It felt as though he had never wrapped his arms around anyone before.

You weren't too far on that assumption.

"You're safe now," the young Master whispered. He awkwardly ran his hand down your hair, unsure whether to place it on your mid-back or around your shoulders. While he wondered what was best to do, you closed your eyes.

After a few awkward moments, he breathed against your ear anxiously. "Now if you could release me… I'd really appreciate it, really. Like now."

The duration of the following week was filled with fraught. You were stored in a shack behind a field of rice paddies while Kiku had been in mandatory inquisition.

Yao sat timidly beside Kiku. His hands clenched against the cloth of his knees, casted his gaze towards the ground, and hoped to avoid reprimand.

His glossy black hair gleamed from the light pouring through the window, casting a shadow of his currently proud form. Squared shoulders, hands over lap, head high and defensive.

The man currently in control after his father's illness stood before the two, pacing every now and then, stopping only when he felt he needed to say something, but fell short.

He continued his pacing regardless.

Samurais stood on either side of the sliding doors, their hands readied on the hilt, ready to be drawn at any moment.

"Akamatsu-san,"

The man gave a grunt.

"I mean no disrespect, but are you to say anything to us or are you just wasting time here?" Kiku asked, ignoring the sudden intake of breath from his guardian.

He was the son of the Shogun. If needed, he would exercise his title. When in audience with the daimyo, he used his title the most.

They had been in good standing before his father grew ill. Until his daughter intruded the palace, making arrangements as if she owned the place.

It was known that she had occasionally intermingled with the foreigners some years ago and adopted the ways of the richer outsiders. The way she went about it ruined his good feeling of her, although the thought of marriage was not in mind. Far from it to be exact, the young Master never actually thought about it.

The last time such a suggestion was brought up into conversation was when he had last seen his father.

_"A Kyoto woman or Kira?"_

Kiku never made a comment.

"As you should know, Japan is doing just fine," the daimyo replied. "You would know if you weren't tied up with this interloper,"

Yao felt a side glance from his young Master and a smoldering glare from the daimyo.

"I've decided to have her executed as she should have been from the start,"

Kiku's body rose indignantly. "I cannot allow that,"

"It's not for you to decide—"

"I can take my father's spot at any time I please,"

Akamatsu stopped pacing, his hand slithered over to his hilt.

"…Why dare defy what's good for you?"

"I owe this young foreigner,"

Everyone, even the masked samurais, blinked.

You couldn't deny the disturbing silence. You hated being cooped up somewhere, especially when it reeked of spoiled food and your own feces. After the whole event of nearly dropping to your possible death, you knew the trust levels dropped drastically, not like you could bet on someone helping you out anyway.

What mattered now was the impending future.

_Gaijin._ That's what they had called you.

_Outsider._ You heard the word before.

*  
"Wow, what an amazing place!"

A deep chuckle echoed.

"I'm glad you're fond of this place," the voice said proudly.

"Why of all people did you decide to take me?"

The voice hesitated. The towering figure turned to face you, eyes shadowed from the blinding sun. An arm reached out, rustling your tousled waves made frizzy from the humidity.

"Because…" you frowned in disapproval. You stamped your foot. "Because?"

The voice laughed again. "Because you're my most favorite person in whole wide world!"

Without hesitation, like any naïve child, you went to embrace the figure.

*

The natives of this land had called you and the other by that name. They said it as if it were something unclean. You wouldn't blame them. At the time you were familiar of the poison of potentially ground-breaking commerce.

She recalled some philosopher say, _if you desire gold, liquidize_.

Whatever form didn't matter. It still fitted the bill. The Americans were pouring in with selfish intentions. In years to come, they would bastardize the culture of this enigmatic land. It was inevitable.

Your companion, however, desired adventure, and said person scored tickets.

_When you travelled, your companion had said, the world further opens before you._

You can read all you want, but it means nothing when you don't apply or experience them at all.

Japan was briefly written about. It wasn't enough to sedate this person's thirst though.

"This land still has a monarchy of sorts," the person had told you.

"You don't say, like Britain?"

"Yeah, kind of."

_Gaijin._

You hadn't paid much mind to the word, until now.

The samurais who had rudely tossed you in this shack had said it.

You screwed up a bruised eye, daring them to say it one more time.

The other eye had become bruised as a result.

"Become a guard? Are you stalling, boy?" Akamatsu growled beneath a sparse moustache.

"We'll be vacationing in Edo, correct?" Kiku mentioned, "She might as well be there amongst the other women and see her worth,"

There was a cackle of mirth from the daimyo. He couldn't help, but lurch forward in his fit of amusement.

"You think she has a chance against those women? They'd kill her before she could stand!"

Yao furtively glanced upwards to his Master, surprised to find him nicely composed. He was proud and admired that aspect of young Master Kiku. He was capable of maintaining a steady mind, no matter the situation and acted accordingly. Since the incident, Yao had come to believe that this gift was tarnished. He guessed it hadn't after all.

_He'll be great_, the dying Shogun had said some time ago. _He has a better head than any one of us combined.  
_  
_Japan is in good hands, sir,_ Yao remembered saying.

Right now his faith was at an inkling which was good at this point. For him, the Shogun, and everyone else involved. It was better than no faith at all.

His name was Kei.

The greatest warrior to have ever lived in Japan's rich history… Until his mother called him back inside on the first sight of night.

Not on this particular one. He felt the moon's shine warm his shoulders as it extended his shadow. Admiring it, he raised his little arm in the air as though he were to embark in battle. Battle cries flew along the piercing winds, evading invisible enemies, and protecting his ruler from foreign threats.

He was to save his lovely country of Japan. No matter the costs.

He would have a meeting with fate.

The Shogun was to come.

Upon awakening you found yourself dragged from the shack. Kiku stood before you sheepishly as he said you were to be pampered, alongside with him, to ensure your safety.

"What happened to your eyes?" he said, poking his head out from the sliding door. He avoided seeing you being scrubbed by one of the servants. It so happened to be the same one who nearly touched Kiku; to this day he believed it an accident.

You twitched when she had scrubbed you too hard.

"Does it matter?"

He noticed your discomfort. The way you tried to speak as little as possible was obvious.

"Only a few us know English, miss, there is no need to worry,"

A snort gave out.

"Well," you said, relaxing your shoulders to give an indication to the maid to wash lower. The entire thing was odd, but you didn't question, it felt good in a way. Maybe that's why most rich people were fat. Doing nothing was amazing. You decided that this would be the last time. Being a sloth wasn't your forte, you still had an agenda to keep.

Escape was priority. This idiot could provide you the time you needed to flee and maybe then, maybe, you could finally kill him or at least leave his home in flames once you left.

_I'll avenge you, _you thought_.  
_

"Those bastards gave me a good one and two," you pointed to your eyes.

The look on his face was of mortification. He shook his head.

"I apologize, truly, that was very inhospitable. Normally we don't do such a thing to our guests,"

Now you laughed. You tossed your head back and ignored the maid who probably cursed at the unexpected movement.

"Me? A guest? I'm a prisoner!"

The Japanese prince said nothing.

"If you're going to kill me, I recommend that you do it now,"

"…I don't intend to kill you,"

A frown tugged at your lips.

"Then what am I doing here?"

"To atone,"

"Y'know, your English is pretty good," you remarked, "are you sure you know what that means?"

He nodded that he did.

"I learned from a teacher who came here, those men who wanted to commence trade decided to gift me with foreign language,"

"I hope you know that they only want to rape your land,"

Realizing the futility of this entire conversation, the young Master only sighed and left. Before he closed the sliding door, he informed you that everyone will be travelling to Edo, a city where it is filled with guards.

"You'll be hidden and kept safe, I assure you."

The palanquin rocked to and fro while the servants held tightly. The attempts to maintain balance kept still for short amounts of time.

Kiku sat quietly, his face pensive while Yao said something in Chinese as he peered through the silky drapes.

"Was it necessary to have her in the same place as you?" the Chinaman complained.

Despite not understanding half the things being spoken, you know when you were in the equation. Yao gave it away every time he threw a fleeting glare in your direction. You sighed and crossed your arms, leaning back into the comforters.

Kei was told to remain home once his mother bid him farewell. His ability to follow directions, just to cut it short, was limited. He would nod his compliance the second she left and waited a good ten minutes before he dashed out into the streets.

Today it was said that the Shogun would be travelling through here, his destination to the palace of Edo.

It was fate, he realized, that today would mark his beginning as a samurai.

The streets were quietly attended. A word not uttered. Brisk winds would flip their hair over their faces.

Heavy steps echoed throughout. Four sets of palanquins appeared in tow. The men drawing the heavy box filled with royalty and one prisoner kept their gazes focused ahead. They would occasionally grunt and shift the poles onto another shoulder when it was necessary.

Little Kei in his cotton clothes stuck his finger up his nose, watched, and waited impatiently to find the palanquin carrying the Shogun.

A ruffling of the drapes caught his attention.

Surprised, two round eyes met his and quickly disappeared, setting the drapes back in place.

The boy sucked in a quick breath. He looked around, jerking his head like a rooster, wondering if anyone took notice. Much to his displeasure, the denizens had their heads bowed in respect.

"You disrespectful little boy,"

Kei nearly screamed from shock when an old woman behind him took him by the ear.

"Bow your head! Give your respects!"

Her wrinkly hands like vines took possession of his head, jerking it down before he could say anything in protest. The marble ground became a blur when he blinked several times in an attempt to restrain his tears.

In the intense silence amongst everyone there, only one person knew there was something wrong.

He had seen the eyes of a foreigner.

The little boy would achieve his dream and find a way to protect his land from the enemies.

And this would begin by identifying this foreigner who was obviously committing espionage, pretending to be someone who was allowed to be in the company of the ruler who looked over the great country of Japan.


End file.
